


A Jug of Wine — And Thou

by havisham



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Banter, Cousin Incest, Elven Wine, M/M, Ridiculously Cheesy, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3224120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fingon and Maedhros are young and in love -- with each other and with themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Jug of Wine — And Thou

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oshun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshun/gifts).



Maitimo heard the first pebble strike his window and ignored it. 

The book he was reading became suddenly much more absorbing, and besides, it was the kind of summer night rife with noise -- the buzzing of insects, the sound of the wind, and other, more mysterious motions of the night, so that the tiny clink of a pebble hitting a pane of glass was hardly noticeable. 

Another pebble hit the window. He read on.

He turned the page, and despite himself, waited for the pebble. It did not come. Minutes passed and it seemed to him that Findekáno had finally taken the hint and gone away. Maitimo put aside the book and went over to the window to check. Outside, it was as dark as it got in Aman, under the light of the Trees. Gentle washes of silver light gave sparkle to the dark navy of sky, and the stars burned bright against them. 

Maitimo opened the window and a pebble came up, hit the window pane, bounced, and hit his chest before disappearing into the folds of his robe. Down below, Findekáno stood, holding aloft a bottle of wine. 

"Oi, Maitimo! Are we still angry at each other?" 

Maitimo drew an impatient breath. "Findekáno, I have long journey tomorrow, I need to sleep." 

"You aren't sleeping now," said Findekáno, which was as true as that went. "Come on, this is very good wine. Let me up." 

Maitimo gave a great sigh and nodded. "Wait a minute." 

When he had come of age, Maitimo had wanted to leave his father's house and live in Tirion, had in fact picked a particular house that he thought he would be able to afford without borrowing too heavily from his parents or grandfather. But it all came to naught, when Carnistir was born and was, even then, Carnistir, and Maitimo felt entirely too guilty to abandon his hapless parents.

So a compromise was achieved. Maitimo was gifted a certain small portion of the house, where was built a kitchen, a washroom, and, most importantly, two doors. One to keep noisy little brothers out, and another door to the outside, for when he had guests who he did not want to ferry through the grand and not accidentally intimidating entrance to the house of Fëanáro. 

It was this door Maitimo opened, and he looked with a deep sense of appreciation to the small rose garden outside it. The red climbing rose that had had finally overrun the metal arch that served as his front-gate was his favorite. He had chosen the blooms for their especial beauty -- not, as some of his brothers said, because they happened to match exactly the color of his hair. 

He waited for Findekáno around the house, feeling the last of his anger fade. He didn’t even remember what had happened to spark the argument between them. Of course, he knew well enough what was the cause -- the cause was always boringly, stupidly, predictably the same.

 

“Ah, there you are!” Findekáno shouted, jogging across the lawn. He climbed the steps in twos and threes, and gave Maitimo a great, smacking kiss on the cheek before he could protest. Maitimo flushed before he could help it and pulled Findekáno into the house more roughly than he would have otherwise. 

But Findekáno did not seem to mind the rough treatment. In fact, he laughed and said, in a confidential tone, “I have started without you.” 

“Why am I not surprised? Keep your voice down, you’ll wake my brothers.” 

“Me, interrupt Tyelkormo’s beauty rest? Perish the thought! But I’ll keep my voice down. I’ve had enough yelling today. Eru, that was stupid, wasn’t it?” 

“Yes,” Maitimo said. “Hopelessly so. I couldn’t understand how things escalated the way it did -- and I’m sorry, Findekáno, but your father didn’t exactly help things.” 

Findekáno stiffened at that. “I don’t think he was being unreasonable at all. Your father can be a horribly petty when he wants to be. There was no need for him to --” Findekáno interrupted himself with a sharp shake of his head. “No. I won’t start this again.” 

“Nor I,” Maitimo said, putting an arm around Findekáno’s shoulder, and another around his waist. He leaned against Findekáno for a moment and breathed him in. “Shall we go upstairs?”

Findekáno shifted a little in his arms. His family was not as tactile as Maitimo’s was, and unexpected touches still had the ability to startle him -- a fact Maitimo knew well, and took full advantage of. 

Findekáno’s voice was breathless as he said, “Who could resist such an invitation?” 

Maitimo grinned. “Not you, anyway.”

* 

The wine was excellent, and, if Maitimo was not mistaken (he rarely was) stolen from Finwë’s private cellar. He would tease Findekáno about his light fingers later, right now it seemed better to drink -- admire the ruby glow of the wine in its glass --- watch the fire -- look at Findekáno. 

Thus distracted, he hardly noticed how quickly they drifted from the chairs beside the fireplace to his very comfortable bed. Well! Tonight would not be one for prolonged flirtation, then. That was fine by him. Findekáno was speaking, saying that he wished he could go with Maitimo the next day. 

"I am always so envious of your adventures! You should take me some day, I swear I am a better companion than Carnistir," he said, stretching out on the bed. 

Maitimo hooked his leg with Findekáno's and pulled him closer, until they lay side by side, looking up to the dark-red canopy of Maitimo's bed. Maitimo thought that traveling with Findekáno would be a very happy adventure, but not something at all possible. At least, not now. He mused, "Can you imagine the look on our fathers' faces if they saw that we had run off together?" 

"It would be the talk of Tirion for years to come. Let's do it." 

"Where shall we go?" 

"If I had my pick? Ennor, of course. We'll split the land into twos, you get one half and I, the other." 

"And? Do you not think the people living there will protest our sudden kingship?" 

"Whatever for? We would clear the land of evil things and of course, we would be kind, just and brave rulers. What more could anyone want from their kings?" 

"I don't know... Perhaps, heirs?" 

"Ha!" Findekáno pressed his mouth briefly against Maitimo's neck. "Our grandfather has more heirs than he could ever need. Is he happier for it?" 

There was something of an awkward silence before Maitimo said, "Finno, you know that I -- it is difficult for me to --" 

"I know," Findekáno said. 

"I must be seen as looking for a wife, however slowly. It isn't up to me, I am my father's heir, no matter how much Curufinwë would have it not be so. If it got out that I am never to marry, then many lords -- with hopeful daughters -- would have reasons to weaken their support." 

"You forget that I am a member of the opposition," Findekáno said with a dark smile. "You marrying and have yet more heirs does not help me a bit." 

"Don't try to be sinister, it doesn't suit."

"No?" Findekáno said, his expression sharpening. He looked, oddly enough, like Fëanáro when presented with an interesting challenge and Maitimo felt something uneasy stir inside him. 

"Wait!" Findekáno slapped Maritmo's chest sharply, and said,"I've got a way for you to resolve your wedding dilemma." 

"Have you," Maitimo said drily. 

"It is obvious. You must challenge those who wish to wed you to a series of tests, of increasing difficulty and peril -- riding up glass hills, finding an arrow shot by the best bowman in the world, spinning hay into gold, whatever you like -- until at last there is only one left. Then I --" 

Maitimo snorted loudly. 

Findekáno went on as he had not been interrupted. "Then I would claim your hand and none could say that it wasn't fairly done."

"All right," Maitimo said briskly. "For your first challenge, bring me some more wine, there’s a good fellow.” 

He didn’t expect Findekáno to obey him, but he did. That is to say, Findekáno got out of bed with a word and went over to the table where they had left the bottle. He poured out a glass -- the very last of the wine, as it happened -- and brought it back to bed, holding it out for Maitimo. 

Maitimo reached out to take the glass, but instead Findekáno shook his head and chuckled, before drinking down the glass. 

“How disappointing, you have lost before you even began,” Maitimo said. 

Findekáno only smiled, and pressed a wine-stained kiss on Maitimo’s lips. 

* 

Later, he traced a slow fingertip down the line of Findekáno’s back. Findekáno stirred at his touch, but did not turn. They stayed like this, quiet and content, for some time. Maitimo did not look to his window, did not mark how the silver light was slowly but surely turning to gold. 

Leaning in, his lips brushing against the shell of Findekáno’s ear, Maitimo said, "Finno, you know that I love you. I would love you even if we were not--" 

"Fucking?" Findekano turned now to look at him, his face a picture of innocence. 

"Intimate, yes. Do you think I would shocked by the kind of language you picked up in the docks of Aqualondë? Do you not know who helped the sailors to perfect these words and translate them to Quenya?” 

“The prodigious Fëanáro strikes yet again,” Findekano said with a snicker. 

“I was talking about myself.” 

Findekano’s laughter was its own reward, but Maitimo received also a swift kiss and an sweet admonishment: "Maitimo, you damn fool! Don't you know by now that I love you in just the same way as I breathe?" 

Maitimo demurred, saying “Sounds inconvenient…” 

“It is, a little.” Sobering now, and getting up, Findekano said, “What happens when we can no longer resolve our troubles with wine and kisses?" 

“We find another way,” Maitimo said, getting up as well. He watched as Findekano dressed and touched his shoulder. Obediently, Findekano turned and let Maitimo braid his hair. More confidently than he felt, Maitimo said, “There is always another way.” 

It was then someone began to bang loudly on Maitimo’s front door, asking him _what in the world was he doing, didn’t he know there was a schedule to keep?_

Findekano mouthed to Maitimo, _the window?_ Maitimo nodded and went down the stairs to yell back that he was ready -- more or less -- and dashed quickly back to his room to dress. He found the room empty, as he expected.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Zopyrus, for betaing this thing! 
> 
> (The title naturally dispensed with the bread as unnecessary.)


End file.
